


Every Other Freckle

by Scibie



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Songfic, Starts vague and gets clearer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:06:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5435816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scibie/pseuds/Scibie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songfic set to Every Other Freckle by alt-J. Crenny McTucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Other Freckle

_I wanna share your mouthful_  
Hot breaths intermingle in the silence, warming the space between the two with wet heat.  
_Do all the things your lungs do so well_  
A hand drifts over sweat-damp skin, fingers tracing just-protruding ribs, feeling them rise with each heavy panting breath.  
_Bed into you like a cat beds into a bean bag_  
Another hand splays over a stomach softened with its lack of musculature, fingertips pressing into skin.  
_Turn you inside out and lick you like a crisp packet_  
A tongue drags over a taut neck, feeling muscles tense. Fingers buried in hair tug gently, the pressure gentle but demanding.  
-  
_You're the first and last of your kind_  
No one had ever seemed so serene, laid out bare on stained sheets and bathed in moonlight. There would never be someone so perfect again.  
_(Pull me like an animal out of a hole)_  
Eyes as deep as space called to him, demanded his rapt attention and his love.  
_I wanna be every lever you pull_  
The urge to touch all that lay before him - mark it as his with teeth and scratches - surged deep within, stomach skipping beats like the roar of an motorcycle engine.  
_And all showers that shower you_  
Memories of being caught in the rain and soaked clothes and lithe figures underneath bulky jumpers - they spring to mind as suddenly as they leave.  
_Gonna paw paw at you_  
Touches are kept light, kept gentle, kept within the confines of caring. Ignore the urges to rip and tear and squeeze - passion put too far into action.  
_Like a cat paws at my woollen jumper_  
Clothes litter the threadbare carpet, cast aside and forgotten. The domain under the sheets is far warmer when inhabited by two.  
_Be your Minpin_  
Sudden realisations of how big a human body is up close, how many planes of muscle, skin and bone there are to explore. Forests of hair to chart.  
_And Borrower of handsome trivia_  
The first borrowed jumper, wrapped around his pillow in lieu of a pillowcase. Heady and familiar scents to dream to.  
-  
_All hands clap_  
Ridicule. Shame. Doubt. Obsessions made real or love? Sinful or pure? Questions put aside for days he's willing to taint.  
_You will clap_  
For now he has bowed to burning desire, to passion so heavy he swears it clogs his veins and thickens his breath.  
_(Let me be the wallpaper that papers up your room)_  
Days apart are hell. Useless and empty. Meaningless arguments within himself; deliberations on texts and messages.  
_I want to be every button you press_  
Dancing fingers tapping against keyboard keys - the soft clacks of plastic onto plastic. Words appearing on screens. Secret messages in computer class.  
_And all the baths that surround you_  
Summers in Stark's, rich mud between toes and the buzz of lazy flies. Cotton ball clouds spotted by eyes far more discerning than his own. Stars joined in the imagination - art in the night sky.  
_Yes, I'm gonna roll around you_  
Stealth best left to larceny employed elsewhere, eyes watching for patterns. Schedules and habits. Who with and when.  
_Like a cat rolls around saw-dusted patios_  
The waltz of catching him alone, avoiding friends and distractions, filling spare minutes with meaningless talk.  
_I'm gonna kiss you like the sun browns you_  
Tanned skin against pale. Contrasts made by heaven. Pale lips pressed to sun-blessed navels.  
-  
_I want every other freckle_  
Sun dances with dust through filthy window panes, drifting past long torn curtains and settling mid-morning warmth into dirty sheets.  
_I want every other freckle_  
A blond teenager stirs, hair golden like corn. His mattress digs into his hip, springs tough and unyielding.  
_I want every other freckle_  
A mattress laid haphazardly on grimy carpet is barely a bed, but it is still gladly shared.  
_I want every other freckle_  
Reassuring - the warmth of his guest's arm pressed against his - sardines strewn onto a mattress barely big enough for one.  
_I want every other freckle_  
He daren't touch his guest, though his fingers ache to run over the sharp curve of their chin, or to gently slot themselves into a hand that currently drapes itself over his guest's chest.  
The slow progression of the hand - up down up down - with each breath.  
_I want every other freckle_  
Black hair has a soft lustre in the morning sun. Long eyelashes rest almost daintily against a rich tan dusted with freckles. Each freckle is like a star to the blond teenager - he maps them out the same way his guest maps the night sky.  
_I want every other freckle_  
Still slumbering, there is peace. Quiet, gentle peace. Dreams sit heavy in his head and dance across his vision. None can ever cross the iron threshold into reality. Hands smoothed over naked flesh and lips slotted together like puzzle pieces - these can never be real.  
_I want every other freckle_  
The lie - friendship is enough - sits heavy in his stomach everyday. The lie - falling in love with your fellow miscreant is okay - plagues the moments of quiet in his thoughts. The lie - Craig will never love you - embraces his heart, fibreglass cotton wool meant to soothe.  
_Freckle_  
The biggest lie of them all - you'll get over it Kenny - reclines in the mid-morning sun, atop the mental barrier that separates Kenny's fingers from the expanse of freckled shoulder that shines in the buttery light.  
-  
'I love you' makes a home on the tip of his tongue, planting its roots deep. Every word came easy to Kenny. Every word but 'love'.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never really written a song fic before but this song somehow encapsulates to me that feeling of unrequited love and the imaginary lust you have for people you can't have. Which apparently I think is a Crenny thing.  
> Honestly this is almost vent fic for me.  
> If I had gone the other way I was considering, it would have been more of an obsessive love where Kenny ends up kidnapping and/or killing Craig and enjoying his company that way.  
> But I wanted to write about the kind of obsessive painful emotions that come with unrequited love, especially the kind you're too skeptical to ever confess.


End file.
